Sunday, October 25, 2009

laundering my life

working out wrinkled lines of failure in shirts I swore bye........ironing inconsistencies across pants i poured hopes and dreams inside

lacing together loose ends from lines left behind - flailing, not gleaning, dangling not seeing, vacant ideas, void of meaning

shoes that stunk with strings attached are slightly more snug and less detached

happier hats, with new stories to tell, have me thinking,learning and remaining well

wishing farewell to weathered, wool, which withheld wisdom and left pockets less full

the sadness of my fabric has fallen and softened, thus blessing me with the instructions for a divine design

blatant yet misleading, my internal life has been complacent and non-receiving......

Sunday, October 18, 2009

quiet house

When nothing is around you, whether thought, disturbance, or human interruption - via sound, scream, technology, or the general cacophony of the busy day, one can indulge in the "quiet house". It is a place unlike most dwellings, a place, a moment, in time, space and all the other mediums that exists....where nothing rules, matters, dictates or persists.

Watching a window display a movie of motion atop swaying trees, with leaves that want to, but wont leave......so they sway with wind, to and fro, fro and to. Wires forced through boundaries set by city men, needing release but their purpose demands strict, rigid attention.

The City awaits, it is off my vision by a few hundred feet but I witness its stability and purpose. Glowing through a blast of sun only wavered by wind, leaves and my own imagination

Curtains, grazing the window in front, are floating their hands towards me in an act of kindness as they know their graceful movements and beauty are temporary.....

the windows

Staring over the top of a laptop at the dark, rainy 3 am landscape…….the city appears to be awake with its structures aglow in rainbow light. Cars are still here and there……train horns are once every hour or so and last 10 seconds with each blow…..life is still going on as they say. The rain is constant but pacing itself at a rate barely countable. Drops topple over one another and begin to drone.

The folded curtains which drape across her bedroom window drool into my gaze like a lazy hound dog with droopy eyes and ears….shying away from the mist that sprays through the open window’s screen as this unrelenting legion of rain spits on the ground and splashes upward, yearning to be back home in the sky.

I always turn to windows, when my questions mount…..I can’t say there are answers out there but the simple pleasure I take in seeing the world that is outside of my reach provides that subtle hope for something greater and more profound than my simple mind has to offer. A window’s lifespan is permanent yet ever changing. The world that stirs and mixes reality on the backside of the pane creates beginnings, endings and middle ground for those inside to start, stop or stay the same.

Impossible it is for our windows to lie…

internal moments

There are moments that seem to last far too long internally. These are thoughts rife with pain, that chew and gnaw on my brain like cognitive cannibals. Once these thoughts start eating from the inside out a multiplication effect occurs and any attempt at witnessing them for the negative chatter (meaninglessness) they are, no longer stunts their growth. These beasts burden the mind and feast on any positive matter that has accrued. If willpower to witness sooner and thinking strong were tools that maintained a sharp edge, a chance, I might stand.